


Phone Numbers and Spotted Skin

by pyrokinesis



Series: Story Generators Are Crazy [2]
Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, Fluff and Crack, I'm so sorry, Read at Your Own Risk, run for it, what did I do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28104102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrokinesis/pseuds/pyrokinesis
Summary: I uh- I did it again. I wrote another story with a story generator. I'm sorry, okay? It's just that it's nonsense and it's hilarious.OrJosie attempts to ask Hope for her phone number.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Series: Story Generators Are Crazy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058858
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Phone Numbers and Spotted Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Heh heh. Yeah hi. Enjoy!

Hope Mikaelson was thinking about Josie Saltzman again. Josie was an insane arsonist with beautiful spots and pale fingers.

Hope walked over to the window and reflected on her cool surroundings. She had always loved sunny Salvator School with its fat, fair forest. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel worried. Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the gorgeous figure of Josie Saltzman.

Hope gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a hopeful, special, tribrid with ginger spots and a short stature. Her friends saw her as a tiny, testy leprechaun. Once, she had even revived a dying, child with an old soul.

But not even a hopeful person who had once revived a dying, child with an old soul was prepared for what Josie had in-store today.

The sun shone like dancing anteaters, making Hope shocked for it had never danced before. Hope grabbed a bendy banana that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers, licking her lips.

As Hope stepped outside and Josie came closer, she could see the scattered glint in her eye.

Josie gazed with the affection of 2037 brave fast foxes. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a phone number."

Hope looked back, even more shocked and still fingering the bendy overripe banana. 

"Josie, I admire your eyebrows and your face, but I can't possibly give it to you. My fangirls would come after you like a starving man after a burger," She replied, her face serious upon revealing her true feelings.

They looked at each other with sleepy feelings, like two loose, long lions gyrating at a very witty Prom, which had pop music playing in the background and two charming uncles smiling to the beat. But Josie's sleepy feelings disappeared, replaced by a brave determination.

"But I must!" Josie cried, her eyes replaced with hearts and suddenly gaining a Shakespearean British accent because of course, she was declaring her love and Shakespeare was a must when doing that.

Hope regarded Josie's beautiful spots and long fingers with a sad sigh, combing back her luscious auburn hair.

"You mustn't be hurt, I shall fall upon my sword if thy happens to you!" Hope sobbed back at her in horrible Shakespearean, clutching at Josie's polka-dotted sleeve.

"It is my duty, fair maiden! I shall fall upon MY sword if anything happens to thou! I must be able to reach you, fair maiden!" 

Josie looked absolutely delicious, her emotions blushing like a kooky, knowledgeable knife, and Hope was enamored.

"Then take it! Take it! Be safe my warfarin knight!" She cried, thrusting out her phone, the back of her hand pressed to her forehead. Josie bravely took the phone and put her number in.

"You have sealed your fate." Hope sobbed again. "Good luck to you and don't die please cause like if another person gets killed cause they have my contact info, I'll throw myself into Malivore, okay, thanks, bye!"

Hope slammed the door in Josie's face and never saw the girl again. It was said she was mauled by rabid fangirls, but her body was never found, so who knows.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very sorry.


End file.
